


When You Can't Get to Sleep

by Chash



Series: The Morning Seems Impossible [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-02 11:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16785622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Nate has had a lot of happy endings in his life. It's just that after every one of them, his life kept going on, and it wasn't as good as he thought it would be.Maybe this time will be different.





	When You Can't Get to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [kultiras](http://kultiras.tumblr.com/)!

Even before Earth, Nate didn't really get happily ever afters.

Obviously, there wasn't anything unclear about the basic concept, and he understood the appeal. But the thing about stories is that they _have_ endings, and that doesn't work, with life. Not until it's over. There were times when, if his life had been a book that ended in that moment, it would have been a happy story. The day his mother died might have been the start of the book of Nate, with the day he and his father finally processed it, held each other close and cried, letting out all the feelings they hadn't let out before, the ending, some catharsis and relief. But the story could have continued, too, stretched as far as his getting arrested and thrown in the skybox. 

When his dad took him out and put him on the dropship, when the doors open, that could have been a happily ever after, a fresh start on a new world. 

It could have been a good ending, if someone never saw him again after that. They could have imagined that he spent the rest of his life in the sunshine, that he lived and thrived.

Less than a year later, he's back in a fucking metal box.

"How many apocalypses does one planet need?" he grumbles.

Eric smiles, rolls his eyes. They're not _dating_ dating, but they sleep together sometimes, when they want to. It's a nice way to kill some time, to be close to someone. "I guess they just keep going until one sticks."

He's aware, in a far, distant way, that there could be people alive outside this bunker. Bellamy supposedly made it somewhere safe, him and Clarke, Raven and Monty, even fucking _Murphy_ , and they're going to reunite someday, in theory.

That would be a happy ending too, the bunker opening up to his friends out there waiting, but five years comes and goes and the door doesn't open, can't. Nate starts to think that this might be it, his ending, the last stage of his life. It's not unhappy yet, but everyone can see the writing on the wall--there's been less few and new mouths to feed. Sooner or later, this is going to go wrong.

And then, after six years, the door _does_ open.

Nate's not there when it happens, not on the scene, and it takes time for word of the door being blasted open to come to him. He hears that Clarke is there, the most famous of the survivors, and more skaikru, more grounders. Not many, but a handful.

It feels like too much to hope that all of them made it, but he lets himself do it anyway as he runs to the door. The sunlight hurts, after all these years underground, blinds him for a minute, for long enough that he doesn't see someone breaking away, running towards him, doesn't know that it's happening until his arms are full of Monty Green.

 _Monty Green_. Holy fuck.

He hugs back, sliding his hand into Monty's hair and holding him close when he feels the first tear. He's not crying, but it feels like something that will come, once his brain has caught up. It's too much, right now.

"Damn, Monty," he says, smiling. "Where the hell were you?"

"Fucking space."

He laughs. "Beats the fucking ground."

"I only had six other people," Monty says, muffled, and Nate does a quick count in his head. Bellamy, Clarke, Monty, Raven, Murphy, Harper, and two grounders. 

"Six?"

"Clarke didn't make it."

He _knows_ it's not true, he heard people talking about wanheda, and that's Clarke. But maybe they'd never actually met her, maybe they were wrong. He and Clarke have known each other most of their lives, not _well_ , but she has to--

"No, she _made_ it," Monty clarifies, before his panic can get too far. "She's alive. She was just--she was on the ground."

"So, she's here?"

Monty nods. He's thinner than he was, and older, but healthy enough. His hair is shorter, spiky, and it's a good look for him. His hands are laced with angry red scars, but he's alive, and smiling. Nate can't get enough of it. "She got a kid."

That pulls his attention. "What, at the store?"

Monty laughs again, mesmerizing. It's been so long since he made Monty laugh. "Not a lot of other people to take her, I guess."

"I guess. Bellamy here?"

"With Clarke and his sister."

It sounds about right; they'll do their reunion later. It's not like he's going anywhere.

Fuck, he's not going anywhere. He's _alive_ ; they all are, and they're here for a happy ending or a new beginning, depending on how you look at it.

Depending on how things turn out.

"Nathan," says Murphy, when they pick their way through the crowd and up to the rest of Skaikru. They all look pretty healthy, considering. 

"John."

"You've never looked better."

Nate snorts. "Neither have you, but there was never much competition." He pulls Bellamy in for a hug next. "Heard you got a kid."

"Clarke did."

"I said what I said."

Bellamy gives him a squeeze, grins. "I didn't miss you at all."

"Fuck you too," he says, and it would be a good ending, if he wanted one. A nice time for the book to end and his life to keep going well.

But his life is still his life; he doesn't get to stop living it and assume it'll turn out well.

Not that it goes poorly, once the bunker is opened. The world is mostly fucked, a wasteland that everyone in space has confirmed covers everything but the green valley Clarke found. It's better than being in the bunker, but there's still that creeping dread, the knowledge that at some point, their resources will run out and people will start dying again.

"You're a ray of sunshine," says Bellamy, frowning down at the jug of moonshine they're sharing. It's a nice night, warm and quiet, and they're the only two people left awake in a way that feels companionable, not lonely.

"I'm just saying, I don't know if we can fix this."

"Neither do I," Bellamy admits. "But I know that we have to try. Monty's doing pretty well with the terraforming." He clears his throat. "What's going on with you two?"

"What's going on with you and Clarke?" he shoots back.

"We're in love."

He says it easily, nonchalantly, with a kind of sureness that Miller hasn't had since Bryan. Even with Bryan, maybe. Six years and an apocalypse probably makes things pretty clear. 

"Took you long enough."

Bellamy chokes on the moonshine. "Trust me, I know. So, you and Monty. How long is that taking?"

"Longer than this." He leans forward, sighs. "I'm worried about him. He seems--it was tough, huh?'

"For everyone, yeah. I have to believe it's going to get better," he adds, looking up at the sky. "We deserve some good luck, right? It has to come eventually."

"We're alive," says Nate. "And we might live long enough to die of natural causes."

"That's the spirit."

"I'm happy for you and Clarke," he adds, meaning it. "I hope you get a lot of good years."

"If you're really worried we don't have a lot of years left, you shouldn't wait," Bellamy points out. "Make the most of the ones we've got."

"We're doing that now, right?"

Bellamy smiles. "Yeah, we are."

Still, he can't deny that it gets better, after Monty kisses him. Part of it is the relationship itself, but even more than that, it might be _Monty_ , the shift in how he is. For the first few months after they were all back together, it felt as if Monty was just waiting for something to go wrong, and now he's sure, confident, and ready to work.

"I don't mind," Nate explains, watching him check some of the new growth in the wasteland. "I just don't know what happened."

"I think just time," Monty says. "It's been long enough and things have been good enough that I can think about them staying good."

"Yeah, I don't get that."

He smiles. "Oh good, pessimism. That's new for you."

"Hey, I _want_ to get it."

Monty leaves his plants and comes to sit next to Nate, leaning into his side. He's put on weight and his hair is growing out again. He doesn't look like he used to, not exactly, but he looks good. Happy.

"Let me guess, you think the longer things are good, the closer we're getting to something going wrong."

"You don't think so?"

"I think this is the first time we've really had a fair shot," he says. "We should have in the Ark, but we all knew we were killing time up there. Our whole lives were supposed to be killing time until we could get back here. And then when we got here--we were kids trying to put together a life. Just think about what it was like before. Can you imagine a time when Bellamy and Clarke would have had a _kid_?"

"Maybe if Clarke hadn't bailed after Mount Weather," he says, but he gets the larger point. Even when they had Arcadia, it never felt like they were putting down roots, making something that could really last. Things didn't feel like they _could_ last, before. 

"It always felt like we were waiting for the other shoe to drop," Monty says, his own thoughts apparently going along the same lines as Nate's. "Now it doesn't."

"So when the other shoe drops, we won't be ready."

Monty rolls his eyes, elbows Nate. "I don't think that. Space was--tough," he admits. "I told myself we'd never get back down here, because I didn't know how to believe that we would. And that helped. Even though it was bad, it helped. Believing that this was the rest of my life gave me a good foundation to deal with other things, to take care of everyone else. And now I get to believe this is my life."

"And that's better?"

"You want to be back in Tartarus?"

"Fuck, no." He flops onto his back, staring up at the sky. "Bryan wanted chickens, you know that? And now we have bird eggs. I don't even know what happened to him."

Monty frowns, lies down next to him. "You don't?"

"I know he didn't make it, but I don't know when. If he didn't make the lottery or what. I woke up in the bunker and he wasn't in it, that was all."

"I'm sorry."

"Been six years, I'm mostly over it. It's not like we were still together anyway. Just--I don't know. We were talking about the future and what we wanted to do, and before I knew it, we were fighting over what to do about those Azgeda and it was over. When I found him, I thought--"

"I can't promise things are always going to be good," Monty says. "But I think we're in a good place now. We can make a foundation, and I think that's what you really need. Stability."

"Stability," he repeats, slow. It sounds so much more possible than happiness, in the long term.

"A solid base to build a life on."

"A life together."

Monty smiles, a little tension lurking around his eyes, but not much. Just a hint. "If you want."

Nate leans over to kiss him. "I want," he says. "Sorry, I'm just--stable is new."

"It is. I'm still working on it too. It might not last, but I'm going to be happy for as long as I can."

"Not quite happily ever after," he says, feeling silly as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Who believes in happily ever after?

But Monty doesn't laugh, and his smile is soft, warm. Understanding. "Depends on how long we can keep it up."

"Yeah," Nate agrees. "Let's find out."

*

Monty makes their house last, in part because they don't care about having one as much. Bellamy and Clarke have a baby, which means they need a place of their own, if for no other reason than because no one else wants to put up with the baby crying in the middle of the night. Nate also suspects that Monty doesn't want to seem like he's biased, as if he's favoring himself, and it's not as if Nate minds waiting. They sleep in the inn when they need to be inside and outside whenever they can. He's looking forward to having a bed of their own, a nice one, and a space to fill, but there's something scary about that too. The houses have so much room in them. Bellamy and Clarke have put up art in theirs, drawings and murals, and they have the cats and the dog, which makes it feel less empty. But Nate doesn't have _things_. He doesn't know how to make a house feel like a home.

When Monty shows him the blueprints, that's at least some of the work done. He's shy about it, more hesitant than Nate was expecting, at least until he starts actually explaining it.

"It's a little more complicated than the other houses," he says. "If anyone minds, I'll upgrade theirs, but I knew more of what we wanted. One story, small." He gestures at the paper. "Kitchen, bedroom, living room, office. And another bedroom here," he adds. "It's a guest room, but also--I figure your dad might want to move sooner or later? And I want us to be ready. So he can come whenever he wants. And then there's a ladder here, and we have a deck on the roof." He flips the page, and Nate can see it so clearly. All the houses have green roofs, full of planters and all the solar panels Monty could cobble together, but theirs has walkways, a bench, a little pavilion where they can sleep on warm nights.

"This is perfect," he breathes.

"If it turns out like I want. The roof is going to take some time."

Nate kisses him. "Perfect, seriously. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"Perfect is a lot to live up to. Do you think your dad is going to want to move?"

"I think probably. It sounds like the people living in the bunker want to relocate soon. Bellamy's talking about coming up with city lines, figuring out how to structure it."

"Yeah, he was talking to me about that too. New structures, new government--it's going to be a lot of work."

Nate nudges him. "Don't tell me you're getting pessimistic. My turn for a pep talk?"

"No, I'm looking forward to it. I think I like city design, is that weird?"

"You kidding? That's great for you. You're going to save us all, I'm pretty sure. Divide up the space and bring back the plant life."

"It won't just be me." He pauses, long enough to make it a totally separate thought. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Brave new world. What do you want to be?"

It's a question that's been lurking, avoidable so far. He's been making things, furniture and the like, and he could probably keep doing it, if he wanted. But it's not something he loves, not a calling. It's something to keep his hands busy, enough for now, but not _enough_.

"I was thinking about how we don't have many books," he says, careful. An embarrassed little admission.

"I don't have any. I like books."

He smiles, twines his fingers with Monty's, feeling more sure. "Yeah. Stories are good, I like stories. But I like having them written down, too. And, seriously, you know what I learned in the bunker? We lost so many records."

"You sound like Bellamy."

"Why do you think we're friends? He likes history, I like literature, but they're the same, you know? They teach us where we came from. Every fiction is a little bit true."

"So you want to write stories?"

"And I want other people to. I don't want to fight anymore." 

It's an admission that feels like a weight moving off his shoulders and onto his chest, the relief of it only brief. It's not that much better to have the confession out in the world. 

"I know," says Monty. "I don't either. And maybe if we do well enough now, we won't have to fight again. Or we won't have to fight like we used to."

"How were you thinking we fight instead?"

"Like we used to on the Ark. Not killing each other, just--arguing."

"Bureaucracy."

"It's not perfect, but it beats trial by combat."

Nate has to smile. "Depends on who you're arguing with."

"I think you'll make a good author," Monty goes on, ignoring him. "And you can always train, if you want to stay ready in case we need to fight again. Bellamy made us all do training every day to keep in shape on the Ark, even though he hoped we'd never need to use it again."

"He's going to be a teacher," Nate says, feeling sure. "Once we get stuff set up so we need one."

"That's going to be nice."

"Yeah, it is."

"Raven's still working on tech, that's good for her. Harper might teach too, but maybe younger kids."

"Clarke will try not to get involved in leadership, but someone will piss her off and she won't be able to resist."

"Octavia can't wait to stop having any power."

"She can join the club." Nate squeezes his hand, smiles. "And you want to be an architect? You're sure?"

"I want to be an architect for now. If I stop, I can be something else, right?"

"You can be anything," he says, without even thinking about it. It's that easy to believe.

"I can try, anyway." He smiles. "So, the house is good?"

"The house is good."

"You want to get started?"

He tugs Monty in for a kiss. "How about tomorrow?"

Monty smiles against his lips. "Perfect."

*

"Are you and Clarke going to get married?"

It's mid-morning, and Nate and Bellamy are working on the new house, just the two of them. Monty and Clarke are meeting with the new council, figuring out the layout of their new settlements, and it's the kind of easy, background happiness that Nate thinks really could last.

Elation is hard to maintain, but contentment could be more than enough. And that feels achievable.

Bellamy cocks his head, frowning like the thought has never occurred to him. His son is strapped to his back, sleeping while he works, but somehow marrying the kid's mother is new and confusing. "Married?"

"Yeah, you know, that thing people do when they love each other and have two kids and a dog and a bunch of cats."

"Ha ha." He wipes the sweat off his brow with his arm. "Fuck, I don't know. We could, I guess. I wouldn't mind. But I don't even know what marriage would look like here. I don't need her to marry me to know she loves me." He pauses. "Why?"

Nate snorts. "Because I want to marry Monty."

"Yeah?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I never said it was bad. I want you to sell me on it."

"Hey, I don't care if _you_ get married."

Bellamy snorts. "You asked me, so clearly you do."

"Just curious." He wets his lips, arranges his thoughts. "Monty told me we were building a foundation here. Finding some stability. A status quo or whatever. And if this is the base of the life I want, before anything goes wrong, I want to be with him."

"You're making it sound pretty good." The dry remark is automatic, but Nate can see the gears turning in his head. He can't help taking this stuff seriously. "If you want to marry him, you should. I'll probably marry Clarke sooner or later. When we're ready. But if you do it first, we'll know what the ceremony looks like."

"We had one in the bunker, we can just use that."

"Did O do it?"

"Gaia. She came up with a new one, since the old one was about the commander and stuff. She was making a whole new belief system from scratch."

"So you'd have her do it?"

"I'd ask Monty. See what he wants to do. Back when Kane and Clarke's mom got married, they did a ceremony with Gaia and a private one like on the Ark, so they could promote unity and still do their own thing."

Bellamy snorts. "Sounds about right." 

They work in silence for a while, a companionable kind of quiet, the kind that Nate thinks of as exemplary of their friendship. It's not like they _don't_ talk, but it's never as easy to not talk to someone as it is to not talk to Bellamy. 

"I think I'm as married to her as I need to be," Bellamy says, soft. "Maybe if we ever get metal processing going, we could get rings, I'd like those. And I'll ask her if she wants to get married. It's not like I wouldn't, if she did."

"Yeah, if he says he doesn't want to, I'm not going to mind. But I think I want to."

"Good. I hope you do."

"You going to be my best man?"

"Always."

"You think it's going to last?" he asks, squinting up at the sky.

"Which part?"

"The good part."

"Probably not forever. But I think everyone wants it to, and we'll fight to get it back. That's something, right?"

"Yeah," says Nate. "It sure is something."

*

He waits to bring up the marriage thing until the house is done. It feels like the right time, the resolution to this chapter of his life. A neat tidy bow on the romance, a good end and a good start too. 

If he's going to try to be a writer, he should try to figure out how to tell good stories. He might as well start with his own.

They have a housewarming party once everything is set up, just a small gathering of friends and family. Bellamy and Clarke leave the baby with Kane and Abby, but Madi comes along with some of the kids from the bunker, plus all the survivors of the first hundred kids to come down from space, Emori and Echo, Eric, a few of Nate's other friends, his dad. Even if Madi and the other kids weren't there, Nate thinks it would be a more sober party, the kind where they're not all rushing to get drunk and hook up. There's moonshine, but they're just passing it around as they chat.

The moon is bright and the stars are clear and Nate can feel the world shifting under his feet without any fear of losing his balance.

Like Monty said, they've got a good foundation. They're stable. If his life is changing, it's changing for the better, and he can handle that.

Bellamy and Clarke leave first, when Madi and her friends start to flag, and then the rest of the group trickles out, until it's just Nate, Monty, and David. He's not moving in yet, but Nate likes to see him in the space, likes knowing that if he ever needs it, he has a place. They built his welcome in.

Monty hugs him first. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for inviting me. I know I'm a lot older than most of your guests."

Nate hugs him too, longer and tighter. Sometimes, in his nightmares, Bellamy's call didn't come through, and they didn't know about the extra spaces in the bunker. Sometimes he has dreams where his father is dead, and it takes him a few seconds to remember they're just dreams.

He's got a long list of dead; it can be hard to be sure who's on it in the middle of the night.

"You know you're always welcome," he tells David. "We've got a bed for you and everything."

"I know. I'll probably take you up on that one of these days. Once everyone else has moved away from the bunker and into new settlements. I don't want to make Monty build me another house."

"I would, though," says Monty. "If you wanted. I could make you an awesome house."

David smiles. "I know. But you already made me one, I don't need another."

Quiet falls over the house once he's gone, and Nate gives Monty a smile in the dark. "Want to go up to the roof?"

The roof feels more like a rough sketch right now, things in place that won't be finished for a while, plants and trees that need time to grow, but Nate likes that too. Something to look forward to.

"I was thinking about asking you to marry me," he says, and Monty smiles, soft.

"Why did you stop thinking about it?"

"I wanted to see if you wanted me to ask first."

He sits down on the bench and Nate sits next to him. There's a chill in the air, just a little one. The first taste of winter. "Why do you want to marry me?"

"Because I love you," he says. "And whatever comes next, I want to be with you."

"Then yeah, I want to marry you too." He leans his head on Nate's shoulder. "Clarke is making us a sign to put up in the house. It's going to be done in a few days. It's a quote I remember from this old vid I watched when I was a kid. A surprise for you."

"Yeah?"

" _There are no happy endings_ ," he says, and Nate can hear him smiling, " _because nothing ends_."

"That sounds about right."

"I thought you'd like it."

"I do." He kisses Monty's hair. "Do you want to keep going with me?"

"I would," he says.

And that's that.

**Author's Note:**

> "There are no happy endings because nothing ends" is from _The Last Unicorn_.


End file.
